


Roommates Should Knock

by fromthebeginningthen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Embarrassed Sherlock, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Unilock, Unresolved Sexual Tension, because sherlock gets caught, brief depiction of masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthebeginningthen/pseuds/fromthebeginningthen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes back from rugby practice early and walks in on Sherlock. This changes things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roommates Should Knock

**Author's Note:**

> Self-edited to my best ability. This is actually based on a true story that happened on my campus that I trmojas'd the shit out of.  
> Used creative liberty to make them roommates because I'm told roommates aren't a thing in English dorms.

John Watson juggled his backpack and rugby bag in order to pull out his student card, swiping it to open the door. The student working at the front desk looked up to see the blonde boy flash his card, to approve that he does in fact live in this dormitory. John walked past the desk to call for the elevator, and huffed out a breath as his rugby bag slipped off his shoulder for the umpteenth time.

The elevator doors finally opened and John dragged himself and his bag inside, hitting the button for the second floor. He couldn’t wait to get to his room and tell Sherlock what had happened at practice. When everyone showed up at the field, the sea container which housed the equipment, was missing the most important item: the balls. The team figured it was probably just a prank, but John knew his eccentric roommate and best friend would jump at the chance to figure out the mystery.

Sherlock Holmes, the boy with the curly black hair John so desperately wanted to run his hands through since the day they met several months ago. He tamped down his, well, more carnal desires because he didn’t even know if Sherlock was into men. The duo were quick friends, and John had to ignore his both growing and changing desires. The more inseparable they became, the more he wanted to date him. But weirdly enough, Sherlock and John never talked about crushes to each other. John hadn’t because he knew Sherlock would probably deduce his little (okay major) crush. As for Sherlock, John figured he just wasn’t into dating anyone.

Pulled out of his thoughts from the elevator door opening onto his floor, John lugged his bags at a rushed pace to quad B and room 221. He dropped one bag against the door to fish the key out of his pocket, then opened the door with a click. He started speaking as he opened the door, “Hey, try to guess what-"

Cut off and startled by Sherlock’s yelp, John’s eyes focused on the other boy only to see that he was in a bit of a compromising position. Laid out on his bed in nothing but a pair of pants, his hand stuck down the front, and curls in disarray. He averted his eyes with a jerk back to Sherlock’s face, which was a mix of fear and embarrassment. But it was too late and he had already seen everything. Sherlock’s mouth opened but whatever excuse he had was replaced with a yelp and red cheeks. He jumped out of bed and reached the bathroom door, pulling it closed with a bit of force.

John shook his head to clear it and attempted to walk into the room, tripping over his bag he forgot about in the shock. The fall jarred him into action, and he sprung up to close the room door for some semblance of privacy. Leaning against the door, he adjusted his shorts which had grown tighter. He closed his eyes, thoughts racing, and he feared today would spotlight in any future fantasies. But he knew above all, he had to put his own reaction aside and make sure Sherlock was okay.

He steeled himself and walked over to the bathroom door, knocking quietly. “Hey Sherlock?” He waited for a minute which felt like an eternity before he got a response.

“What?” Sherlock’s voice was very quiet, and shook with mortification.

“It’s okay you know. Everyone does it, I’m sorry for walking in though you have nothing to be embarrassed about.” John received no response this time besides a sniffle from the other side of the door. “You good?” Still no response.

John sighed and crossed back to his bags at the entrance to the room. He threw the rugby bag onto his bed, which bounced and hit the wall with a thump. The backpack went on his back, and John left the room, closing the door behind him. As he made his way out of the building, he decided to make his way to the library. Sherlock was really embarrassed, so he figured he would want some time alone to calm down.

John felt guilty even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. The uncomfortable mix of guilt and arousal accompanied him on his walk, with the negative feelings winning out. John and his other friends were open about these kinds of things, getting advice and swapping stories. Masturbation was as casual a topic for them as what’s for dinner. But John reminded himself that Sherlock isn’t like the other guys, he’s Sherlock. And they’ve never talked about those things. The one time John brought up his then current girlfriend, Sherlock had grimaced and claimed to have forgotten experiments all the way in the science building across campus. John didn’t understand why, but it was clear to him that Sherlock was troubled by the subject. Some people aren’t as open about sex, it’s fine. It really was.

His train of thought was interrupted by his arrival to the university library. It was a massive brick building, filled with overachievers and crammers alike. John actually frequented it, a side effect of being on the medical track. He entered the building and made his way to the top floor which he had discovered had the most unused section of books. There was a corner of the room which was dark, the motion sensitive lights having not been triggered in some time. John walked pass numerous towering shelves to the corner, lights flickering on with a horror movie flare, and sat down against a section of dusty books.

Running his hands through his blonde, still sweaty, strands he sighed. Why wouldn’t it be fine? Sherlock had nothing to worry about. He was attractive. Annoyingly so, he might add. It’s not like John had actually seen his dick anyway, Sherlock still had his pants on. But that left it up to the imagination, and that was a dangerous line of thought. John’s breath quickened as he remembered Sherlock’s face in sharp detail. The blush from arousal and parted lips, reddened from repeated biting.

The bolt of heat that shot through his stomach was enough to sober him. What was he doing imagining his best friend like that? That definitely breaks some kind of friend code. At least when he fantasized before, they were all created by his head. To use the real memory as fantasy didn’t sit right with him, and now his feelings circled back around to guilt. He definitely needed to do something, so he opened up a new text under Sherlock’s contact.

_I honestly didn’t see anything._

_Harry’s walked in on me before_

_I promise things aren’t awkward now_

_Sherlock_

_Please_

_Don’t make me send you an emoji_

_Fine >:(_

_I’m coming back now_

John gave up the pretense of homework in between texts and packed away his things.

When he left the library and made it back to his room, Sherlock wasn’t there. His satchel was missing from his chair and his shoes were gone too. John sighed and headed into the shower, the water decidedly turned to a colder setting. It appeared Sherlock was too embarrassed to face him still. Honestly he was making it worse, they could have just been nonchalant about it, but now it would be an elephant in the room unless John did something.

Sherlock didn’t return John’s texts or to the room by one in the morning, and John couldn’t stay up any longer. He finished his homework hours ago and tried to pass the time by typing up a blog post for the last campus crime Sherlock and him worked on. Now he just turned off the light and tucked himself into bed, in the now lonely room. No Sherlock plucking his violin or outlining an experiment in his moleskine by reading light. John got to sleep by listening to his iPod, to distract from the deafening silence.

* * *

Sherlock was still missing when John woke the next morning. At least it was a Saturday so he had no classes. John was annoyed with Sherlock’s disappearing act, but he could understand it. Which is why he wanted to talk to him. So he took out his phone and sent one last text before he had to get ready for rugby practice.

_I want to take you to a dinner…you know if you want. I’m making a reservation at that thai place for 5pm._

John repeatedly checked his phone all the way up until practice began. Afterwards, he forced himself not to look again until he felt a vibration so he wouldn’t have to deal with the disappointment and tightening in his gut each time. Back at 221b, he completed the homework he attempted yesterday, then showered and stood in front of his closet deciding what to wear. It wasn’t a date. It actually couldn’t be farther from one honestly, due to the prompt for it. But the thing is, John wanted it to be, and he wanted every excuse for Sherlock to see him dressed well. He chose his nicest pair of jeans and black converse with the least amount of scuffing. As for the shirt, well it wasn’t too cold out yet, so a jumper would suffice. He just went with his oatmeal colored jumper, while not his nicest it was his favorite.

He headed out and made the twenty minute walk from campus to restaurant. He got there 15 minutes early, but was seated anyway at a table in front of the window. He kept waving the waitress away, not wanting to order until Sherlock showed up. The closer it got to five the more John fidgeted, anxiety building. At five John’s eyes were glued to the door, and whenever they strayed they snapped back at the sound of it opening. What if Sherlock thought they couldn’t be friends anymore?

His worries were short lived when the next person to walk in was Sherlock himself. He hesitated and looked around before spotting John who stood and waved him over. John smiled at him as he walked over and they both sat down. Sherlock’s curls were styled as usual, and he was wearing one of his suits. Sherlock gave a small twitch of his lips but otherwise had trouble meeting the other’s eyes.

They both looked around the room, avoiding being the first to speak. John’s eyes wandered over the other patrons, making a half-hearted internal attempt at seeing what Sherlock would see in them. Sherlock’s gaze was stuck on the pedestrians outside.

“Ahem.” John cleared his throat and Sherlock turned to face him. John leaned in and side eyed a couple across the room, “See that couple over there?” Sherlock’s brows furrowed and John motioned with his head until Sherlock looked.

“…Yes.”

“Them? With the jewelry and designer clothes and celebrity level perfume? They obviously have money and good taste, so why are they eating here?”

Sherlock gave a surprised laugh and held it in enough to meet John’s eyes and say, “Astute observation, John.”

Their lips twitched until both began laughing, finding humor in the entire situation more than John’s attempt at a college joke. The waitress came around and they chuckled their way through ordering their food, receiving concerned looks from the woman.

John finally said, “What are we doing?”

“Being idiots.” Sherlock replied, the tension thankfully broken.

John bit his lip and said, “We good?”

“Yeah, we’re good. I…uhm…I guess just forget you saw another man like…that.” Sherlock’s fingers played with the straw wrapper from his water.

John rubbed the back of his neck, “No, I mean. Yeah, it’s cool. You uh. It wasn’t weird is what I’m saying. It was actually kind of attractive?” John looked at Sherlock through his lashes at that last part.

Sherlock froze and his eyes widened. “Attractive?”

John took a deep breath and figured it was now or never. “Yeah. Honestly, I think you’re beautiful.”

John released his breath when Sherlock didn’t react with disgust. In fact, he looked pleased and a broad grin stretched across his face. He stood up and whispered John’s name before taking the step needed to be right up against John’s chair. He leaned down and placed his lips on John’s for a chaste kiss. It didn’t last nearly long enough in John’s opinion, he couldn’t even respond to it. Sherlock straightened up quickly, a blush quickly spreading to his cheeks and the flash of fear in his face prompted John into action.

John stood, putting himself directly in Sherlock’s personal space, and he took both of Sherlock’s hands in his. He realized they were shaking so he gave them a gentle squeeze before leaning in and meeting Sherlock’s lips once more. This kiss was longer, an insistent press of lips instead. John’s left hand came up to cradle Sherlock’s face as the kiss continued. Electricity was felt at all points of contact and both of their hearts raced with mutual excitement. John’s stomach did summersaults and his mind was filled with elation at finally, finally being able to kiss the person he’d fallen hardest for.

When they broke apart they stared at each other with awe, no longer having to hide the nature of their affections. Their smiles were shy and they pressed their foreheads against each other, interrupted only by the coughing of their waitress.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but your food is ready.”

John looked at Sherlock who gave him a nod. “Actually, can we get this to go?”

The waitress raised her eyebrows at them and headed back into the kitchen without so much as a word.

They sat down at the table again, but unwilling to release contact John reached for Sherlock’s hand over the table and held it. Sherlock looked surprised as if he never thought that John would want to hold his hand. John was glad to rectify that thought.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Well, I’ve known how long you’ve been sexually attracted to me. You were very obvious John. You lick your lips approximately four times as much when in close quarters with me, your pupils dilate whenever I come out of the shower in just a towel, and you take an entirely non-platonic interest in my lips whenever I speak. You also begin fidgeting when I do deductions, like you are now.”

Sherlock nodded pointedly below the table to where John’s leg was bouncing up and down. John consciously stopped it and Sherlock continued. “As for how long you’ve wanted not sexual things. I don’t know.” Sherlock’s voice cracked and the rest of his confidence diminished with his admission.

“And you never said anything because you thought I just wanted to hook up?”

Sherlock looked down and away.

“Hey.” John waited until Sherlock looked back, and then smiled to reassure him. “I’ve wanted to date you since the first case we took on. We were running from those frat guys and next thing I knew you grabbed my hand to change direction quickly. And you didn’t realize that you didn’t let go until we were back at the dorm, and all I could think was that I was really disappointed that you let go.”

Sherlock was beaming, but still had trouble fully meeting John’s eyes. “I regret that too.”

John took a deep breath. “Sherlock, will you go out with me? A proper date this time.”

Sherlock squeezed his hand and nodded.

“Well, it’s settled then.” They kept smiling at each other until a thought occurred to John. “So Sherlock. What were you thinking about yesterday when you were uh, alone.”

Sherlock coughed on the sip of water he just took, placing the glass on the table with shaky care. He sputtered, eyes wide, “N-nothing.”

John smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

Sherlock managed to stammer out, “I- uh- just. You. You in um. Your rugby uniform.” His voice was more like a squeak at the end than the baritone of a 19 year old boy.

John’s smirk turned into a grin, but before he could respond the waitress had returned.

“Here’s your food, and the check.”

They paid quickly and exited the restaurant, walking back to campus in a tense silence. But this time the tension was from a whole different source. Their hands were intertwined, which made Sherlock’s heart soar because John Watson wanted to be seen together with him. Almost back to the room, they had one thing on their minds and it wasn’t the innocent first kiss shared not too long ago.


End file.
